Ginger Snap
by Audra Lachesis
Summary: 'Twas the night before Christmas... and Harry Potter had a serious case of insomnia. As Christmas Day approaches, will his worries ruin his holiday -- or does he need a bit of a distraction? H/G, very fluffy -- R/R, please!


Ginger Snap

A Christmas-y Fic by Audra Lachesis

A/N: This is pure Christmas fluff – do not look for a plot. This particular plot bunny attacked me while I was reading – of all things – Doomsday Book, by Connie Willis. Excellent book, absolutely nothing like HP, but good nonetheless. And as some of you may have noticed, I have a bad habit of stopping short of _actually_ getting Harry and Ginny together; I have my reasons for that. Namely, I'm really bad a writing kissing scenes, and I firmly believe they WON'T officially get together 'til the end of the series (Harry's got stuff to do, y'know). 

A sequel might be feasible, though – next Christmas, perhaps. Provided I get a good response, ^_^

WARNING: un-betaed, as I was in a bit of a hurry to post this by Christmas! Beware the rampant Americanisms and occasional misspellings!

***

Harry pounded his pillow irritably, and slumped back in his four-poster bed. It was four in the morning, and his chances of actually getting to sleep kept getting grimmer. He couldn't even blame it on the fact that it was Christmas Eve – or rather, very early Christmas Day. Boyish anticipation of a holiday was the furthest thing from his mind tonight.

Hermione had gone home for Christmas. Ron and his siblings had stayed at Hogwarts, but Harry's other best friend had gone home, at her parents' insistence. She was away from Hogwarts' protective wards, away from a safe magical environment, and most importantly, too far away for Harry and Ron to keep an eye on her.

And she was Muggle-born. For not the first time, Harry regretted his abysmal lack of tact in befriending her. Sure, she would have been a target for the Death Eaters, just the same – but the fact that she was one of Harry Potter's best friends would make her an even more irresistible target. Ron, too – as a Weasley, he was high on Voldemort's list, but as Harry Potter's best mate, he may as well have a target painted on his back, to go with that striking red hair of his.

Harry had mentioned his concerns to Ron once, and only once. The response had been less than enthusiastic. Ron had stopped just short of suggesting Harry have a full psychiatric evaluation to make sure he hadn't gone completely 'round the bend. He and Hermione _chose_ to stay close to Harry, Ron pointed out, and there was absolutely no way for Harry to stop them. Harry hadn't argued; he'd seen Weasleys in full temper, and had deemed it prudent to let Ron win that particular argument.

Hermione's safety was not the only thing worrying Harry; Hagrid had been sent back out to the giants, and Harry felt sick as he remembered some of the stories the gamekeeper had told him last term. The giants didn't seem to be the friendliest of creatures, but their support was vital in the coming war, and Harry reluctantly acknowledged that Hagrid and Madame Maxime were possibly the only choices for ambassadors. But that didn't mean he didn't worry.

And to top it all off, Harry had gotten a terse note from Sirius at breakfast the morning before. Barely two lines – _Still kicking. Happy Christmas._ – the note had done nothing to assuage Harry's fears for his godfather and favorite ex-professor/werewolf. He had no idea where Sirius and Professor Lupin were, but it couldn't be safe.

And that was the main reason Harry faced insomnia tonight – the _not knowing_. He could block out his fears for Hagrid, convince himself that Hermione could take care of herself – but his sleeping mind always conjured up new horrors to befall Sirius and Remus. His nightmares barely involved Voldemort himself lately. Instead, he kept envisioning his parents' best friends caught in some gruesome trap, unable to escape, and he heard their dying screams as the Death Eaters descended on them. And since he didn't _know_ what they were doing, he couldn't convince himself that they were only night terrors.

Harry rolled over again, staring blankly at the inside of his bed hangings. He half-expected to hear news of a Death Eater attack at breakfast. _That would be just Voldemort's style_, he thought bitterly, _to attack an innocent village on Christmas Day_. Would he even be able to enjoy his Christmas morning with the Weasleys? Or would Hedwig bring him another missive of destruction in the _Daily Prophet_ before he even unwrapped his annual Weasley sweater?

Hedwig… 

Harry shoved his covers aside and crept out of his bed. He was careful not to wake Ron, who was snoring soundly in the next bed, as he made his way over to his desk. Silently, Harry extracted parchment, ink, and a quill, and arranged them carefully in front of him.

If he couldn't _see_ Sirius for Christmas, at least he could write to him…

***

Dawn was breaking as Harry tossed his invisibility cloak over his shoulders and made his way stealthily out of Gryffindor Tower. With the new safety restrictions, students weren't allowed out of their dormitories after dark; _technically_, with the sun rising, Harry wasn't breaking any rules, but he didn't want to have to argue that point with Professor Snape. Best not to get caught in the first place.

Snow crunched underfoot as he headed toward the owlery, and Harry discovered he was quite glad he'd had the foresight to get dressed before leaving the tower. It was _cold_, and being caught out here in his pajamas would probably result in an impromptu visit to Madame Pomfrey in the Hospital Wing. Not Harry's idea of a pleasant Christmas morning.

_I'll just send Hedwig off to Sirius and head back_, Harry assured himself silently. _I'll be back before Ron even wakes up, and no one the wiser._

He stepped into the owlery, and was just about to whip off the invisibility cloak when he heard something.

Harry froze, one arm still half raised to unfasten the cloak, and strained his ears. It didn't _sound_ like a Death Eater – it sounded more like a girlish giggle. Suspicious, Harry crept forward, careful to remain silent, and peered into the shadow interior of the owlery.

Most of the school owls had bedded down for the day, but there was a flurry of activity about halfway across the nesting area. A small figure with bright hair and black school robes was being attacked rather enthusiastically by something that strongly resembled a feathery tennis ball.

_Pig,_ Harry thought, relieved. _And… Ginny?_

He was startled to see the youngest Weasley out so early – and in the owlery of all places. Ginny didn't have an owl of her own; then again, Harry recalled, she _had_ named Pigwidgeon. But why would she sneak out before dawn to visit her brother's owl?

"Pigwidgeon, _calm down_," Ginny laughed, batting one hand ineffectually at the tiny owl. "I've got plenty, but you have to hold still!"

She held out her hand to the owl, who proceeded to snatch something from her fingers and zoom around her head spastically, barely pausing in its flight. Ginny gasped in shock as Pig finally managed to light in her long red hair, and she scolded him soundly, although the stern effect was rather lost in her giggles.

"Feathery git," she chuckled. "Come out of there, you'll tangle it, and it's already hopeless." She extracted the little owl from her hair, leaving it standing in all directions, and tossed Pig into the air. Without missing a beat, Pig flapped his wings and resumed his mad capering, twittering at her constantly.

A flash of white from the back of the nesting area caught Harry's attention, and he started as he recognized Hedwig. She must have sensed him, because she swooped down to perch on a lower beam, not far from Ginny and Pig, and hooted questioningly at her master.

Since Harry was still invisible, Ginny quite understandably misunderstood the snowy owls intentions.

"Morning, Hedwig," Ginny called cheerfully, grinning up at the bird. "Have you come for a ginger snap, too?" She extended her hand to the larger owl, and this time Harry spotted a scrap of cookie clutched in her fingers. "C'mon, Hedwig, I can't reach you up there. You'll have to come down a bit closer."

Hedwig hooted at her solemnly, but otherwise ignored the girl, and kept her attention firmly fixed on Harry. She didn't even budge when Ginny clambered onto a low stool and stood on her toes, still offering the morsel to her.

"Now really, Hedwig, I'm not that tall," Ginny chided her. "What's the matter? Afraid you'll spoil your breakfast? It's just a Christmas biscuit – a present, if you want. I bet Harry wouldn't mind."

"Not particularly," Harry spoke up, finally shedding the invisibility cloak. "But then again, I don't know if Hedwig _likes_ ginger biscuits."

Ginny reeled in surprise, and toppled off her stool into a very ungraceful heap. Harry stepped forward guiltily, a sheepish look on his face. "Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."

"Harry!" Ginny gasped, staring up at him in shock. "Where did you – how long have you been – what –?"

"Invisibility cloak," he explained contritely. "I didn't want to get caught by Snape, and I had to send a letter – I didn't mean to scare you."

"Well, you failed miserably!" Ginny wailed, the color slowly fading from her cheeks. "Warn a girl before you sneak up like that, or else you might get hexed before you can explain!"

"I will," Harry grinned, helping her to her feet. She flushed again, and patted her pockets absently, searching for something.

"Ahh." She retrieved a small pouch from the ground and shook it experimentally. "Great hog," she muttered to herself, frowning at the pouch's contents. "You wouldn't think he'd eat so much, since he's so small…"

"Who? Pig?" Harry queried.

"Yes," Ginny answered. "He's eaten almost the whole bag, and not even a hoot of thanks!"

Harry laughed. "You said they were ginger snaps, didn't you? I didn't know owls ate those."

"Pigwidgeon does," Ginny replied. "He loves them."

"Why ginger snaps, though? Why not scones or a bit of bacon?"

"Because Mum sent ginger snaps," Ginny said, a faint blush rising in her cheeks. "And she sends them because – well, as a bit of a joke, really. Mum makes ginger snaps for me every Christmas, because they're my favorite. Bill and Charlie latched on to that when I was very little, and started up this nickname—" She bit her lip and ducked her head in embarrassment. "Because of my hair, see? And because of my temper – and my name, of course."

"Ginny – what, Ginger? You're joking!" Harry looked at her with disbelief.

"Oh, no!" Ginny protested. "Mum and Dad aren't cruel enough to name me _that_. Can you imagine? No, Ginny's short for Virginia, but it's close enough that Bill and Charlie didn't care. They just started calling me 'Ginger Snap', and wouldn't stop, even when I threw tantrums at them. And since Mum always made them for me at Christmas, it was a vicious circle. I'll never escape that nickname, ever." She gave a tragic sigh.

"It's not so bad. My Uncle Vernon calls me 'Boy,' I think your nickname's a lot better than mine," Harry grinned.

Ginny laughed, and shifted her feet nervously.

"So if they're your favorite, why are you feeding them all to Pig?" Harry asked, curious.

"Because I didn't get a chance to do it last night," Ginny answered. "It's an old wizarding custom. Hundreds of years ago, all the animals in a village were fed on Christmas Eve, in memory of the Christ-child, who was born in a manger. The tradition has died out, mostly, but a few wizarding communities still do it. Since I'm the youngest in my family, that was always my job on Christmas Eve."

Hedwig had fluttered down to a lower perch beside Harry, and Ginny tentatively offered her another biscuit. Hedwig accepted it with a dignified look, and Ginny giggled. "I gave treats to Errol and Scabbers, then Hermes when Percy got him, and now Pigwidgeon. And I reckon if Hedwig wants some, she's welcome to them."

Harry ignored the instinctive clenching in his gut at her casual mention of Scabbers. "You do this every year, then?"

Ginny nodded, and "I can't feed Errol and Hermes, of course, since they're back at the Burrow. But Pigwidgeon's here, so I still try to give him his Christmas treat. If it weren't for those rules about students out after dark, he'd have gotten his last night, but I had to wait until this morning, instead.

Ginny crammed another ginger snap into Pig's beak, effectively shutting him up, and held out her arm to offer a second biscuit to Hedwig. Instead of accepting it, Hedwig spread her wings and jumped – straight at Ginny.

Ginny gasped in horror and recoiled, but Harry leapt forward. "Wait – she's just perching." he called, grabbing Ginny's fingers and pulling her arm out straight. "Watch."

Hedwig settled herself daintily on Ginny's extended arm, hooted primly, and began to set her feathers back in order.

"Does she do that often?" Ginny asked, still sounding a bit shaken.

"Only to me, really," Harry explained. "Ron panicked the first time she flew at him like that, and Hermione's usually got her arms full of books, so Hedwig doesn't even try with her." Harry grinned. "She must like you – or else she really likes your ginger snaps."

Belatedly, Harry realized he was still holding Ginny's hand. He flushed, and deftly extracted the biscuit she still clutched in her fingers. He handed it to her without a word, and watched as she carefully offered it to Hedwig. The snowy owl nipped Ginny's ear affectionately and took the morsel in her beak. Ginny laughed and scratched the owl's head happily.

"Traitor," Harry told his owl balefully. "I see how it is – toss me over for a pretty face and a ginger biscuit. See if I give you table scraps at breakfast anymore." Ginny gave him a startled look, which he ignored, and glanced at his watch. 

"Speaking of which – we'd better get back. Ron will be crashing in to wake me up and complain about maroon jumpers soon, and I think he's likely to panic if he finds me missing." Harry shook out his invisibility cloak, and carefully folded it under his arm; the sun was well up by this time, he wouldn't need it for the return trip. He turned to the entrance, then paused uncertainly. "Well – are you coming?"

Ginny stared at him, her expression unreadable. Slowly a bright smile blossomed on her face. "Sure. Hold on a moment—" She carefully tipped Hedwig onto a low perch, and emptied her pouch of ginger snaps on the floor in front of Hedwig and Pig. She dusted her hands off as she stood, pocketed the empty pouch, and turned to join Harry with a cheerful grin. "There – all done."

The two of them headed back up to the castle together, chatting amiably. Ginny apparently had another separate stash of ginger snaps back in her room, which she promised to share with Harry and Ron – on the condition that Harry helped her make sure Ron didn't get too greedy. Harry agreed laughingly, and held the castle door open to let her pass.

As the door shut behind him, Harry recalled his original reason for going to the owlery in the first place: a long, worried letter to Sirius – which still rested in his pocket, unsent.

Oh well. Hedwig would be by at breakfast. He could give it to her then.

***

END

12/25/02


End file.
